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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27999294">At the End of the Day</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/voiceless_terror/pseuds/voiceless_terror'>voiceless_terror</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>jon/gerry/martin soft boyfriends au [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Magnus Archives (Podcast)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Gerry and Martin Own a Bookshop, Jon is Still the Archivist, Multi, Prompt Fill, Soft Husbands, That Doesn't Mean Elias Isn't a Bastard, no powers au</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 10:48:59</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,245</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27999294</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/voiceless_terror/pseuds/voiceless_terror</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Jon has a long day at work. Gerry and Martin make it better.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Martin Blackwood/Gerard Keay/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>jon/gerry/martin soft boyfriends au [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2104842</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>237</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>At the End of the Day</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>For the anon prompt: okokokok jongerrymartin prompt!!!! jon is having a Very Bad Not Good Day, and his two spouses come give him hugs!!! lots of sleepy happy cuddles until he feels ok :)</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p> </p><p></p><div class="">
  <p>Jon threw his bag against the wall, an exhausted sigh on his lips. “Sorry I’m late.”</p>
  <p> </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“S’alright. Dinner’s in the fridge.”</p>
  <p> </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Gerry’s curled up on the couch, a worn paperback novel in his hands. He looks so cozy, like he’s been there for hours. He probably has. They usually have dinner around six most days and it’s nine right now. He can hear the shower running- must be Martin. It’s so achingly domestic. The two of them work all day at the bookshop, trading off the evening shift so they can have dinner together. Dinner that Jon never makes it to. He feels jealous only for a moment before it turns into guilt. What right does he have to be upset? He’s the one who comes home late, who spends more time at work than he does with his spouses. It would be inevitable that they’d grow apart, that Martin and Gerry would naturally become closer. It wouldn’t be anyone’s fault but his own.</p>
  <p> </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>He must have been standing in the doorway for far too long, as Gerry looks up from his book with a concerned glance. “You alright, love?”</p>
  <p> </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Jon feels his face heat up at the name and tries in vain to stop a sniffle from escaping. “M’fine.”</p>
  <p> </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Gerry gives him a dubious look. “No you’re not. C’mere.” He opens his arms and Jon makes his way over, falling into them with another sigh. He hides his face in Gerry’s worn t-shirt, trying to leech any warmth he can get. “God, you’re tense,” Gerry remarks as he runs a hand down his back. “What did Bouchard do today?”</p>
  <p> </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Nothing,” Jon replies, the answer muffled as he refuses to relinquish his spot on Gerry’s chest. “It’s my fault, really. I’ve got deadlines and I’m not meeting them. Need to put in a bit more work.”</p>
  <p> </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Jon, you’re there every night,” Gerry sounds exasperated, a tone that’s used by most people when it comes to Jon. “You don’t even get overtime. Can’t Tim and Sasha help?”</p>
  <p> </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“It’s not their problem,” he tries to explain, lifting his face to meet Gerry’s eyes. It’s hard to look at them, so full of unwarranted worry and care. It’s almost enough to make him tear up again.</p>
  <p> </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“They’re your assistants. You should let them assist you.”</p>
  <p> </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Jon hears the shower stop; Martin will be out soon. He has to get his emotions under control, he’s acting like a child. That’s the last thing the two of them need at the end of the day.</p>
  <p> </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“I might have to work this weekend-”</p>
  <p> </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“No. Not again.” Gerry sits them up, giving him a stern and slightly angry gaze. Jon moves back instinctively, though he doesn’t mean to flinch.</p>
  <p> </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“I-I’m sorry,” he starts, getting a bit choked up. <em>Damn it. </em>He casts his eyes to the ground as if it’ll help control the tears. “I know I haven’t been the best partner as of late, but it’s been r-really hard at work and I’m t-trying-”</p>
  <p> </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“That’s not what I meant,” Gerry’s voice immediately quiets, his eyes going soft. He runs a hand down Jon’s side and he shivers at the touch. “Of course we miss you, but we’re more <em>worried</em> about you. You’re always stuck at work, Martin’s going around making phantom cups of tea-”</p>
  <p> </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“I’m sorry.”</p>
  <p> </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Hush, don’t apologize.” Gerry pulls him close again, the touch grounding him. “It’s just- you’re wasting away, Bouchard’s running you ragged. You’ve got to push back against those deadlines, it’s not like the archive’s going anywhere. I know you look up to the man but really, it isn’t right what he’s got you doing-”</p>
  <p> </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“I heard unnecessary apologies. Is Jon home?”</p>
  <p> </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Jon looks up to see Martin in the hallway with his flannel pajamas on, running a hand through damp hair. He must look a mess because Martin’s face instantly falls. “Oh, <em>Jon.”</em>  The tender way he says his name restarts the tears in earnest.</p>
  <p> </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“G-God, I’m sorry, <em>I’m sorry-”</em></p>
  <p> </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Jon-” Martin’s settling against his back and he can feel that comforting warmth on all sides now. And yet he still can’t control the panic of having disappointed his partners, the only ones who care enough to help him when he’s like this.</p>
  <p> </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“S-Sorry. I mean-” He clenches his jaw and squeezes his eyes shut. “God, I hate that I get like this, I don’t mean to- to be-” Jon can feel his fingers digging into his palms, filling in the familiar crescent-shaped indents from times before. </p>
  <p> </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Hey, what did we say about that?” Gerry’s got his hands around his, gently but firmly uncurling them until his palm lays flat. Martin hisses in sympathy at the sight of the inflamed red marks.</p>
  <p> </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Sorry,” Jon whispers out again, before wincing at the word choice. “I’m- I’m always so <em>dramatic.</em> I don’t know how you two stand it.”</p>
  <p> </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Okay, one, I love your drama,” Martin insists, giving him a gentle kiss on the top of his head. “But that’s not what this is. Elias is taking advantage of you, and that’s not okay. You see that, right?”</p>
  <p> </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Jon shakes his head. They don’t understand- he didn’t deserve this promotion, and now he’s got to prove that he’s worth the trouble. Elias is trying to help him, not hurt him. It’s just going to take a bit of extra work, a few busy weekends. Elias assured him that once everything was up and running, he’d be able to relax. Never mind that it’s been months- he has no frame of reference for how long these things take. Elias would know. </p>
  <p> </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“It’s my job,” he whispers, leaning back into Martin's chest in an attempt to get him to play with his hair. It works. “It’s what’s expected.”</p>
  <p> </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Did you forget I used to work there?” Gerry’s doing that thing again, massaging Jon’s hands in a way that’s guaranteed to make him melt. “And I have spies on the inside. You do <em>not</em> have a healthy work environment.”</p>
  <p> </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“I wish you wouldn’t gossip with Tim and Sasha,” Jon mumbles, his eyes half-closed in contentment. It’s hard to stay awake when faced with this much tenderness. “Very unprofessional.”</p>
  <p> </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“That’s one thing I’ve never claimed to be.”</p>
  <p> </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“You know,” Martin starts lightly, as if what he’s about to suggest hasn’t been said a million times before. “You could always work at the shop with Gerry and me. We could use your help with the remodeling. You can organize the new non-fiction section!”</p>
  <p> </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“We’ll even let you put the poetry section in the back, by the toilet-”</p>
  <p> </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“We will <em>not.”</em></p>
  <p> </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>The banter is comfortable and familiar. Jon smiles. “Would be nice.”</p>
  <p> </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Martin does that dreamy sigh of his as his fingers gently run through Jon’s hair. “Reckon it would.” </p>
  <p> </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“In the meantime,” Gerry yawns and leans back against the cushions, though he doesn’t let go of Jon’s hands. “Could always call Gertrude. We didn’t part on the best of terms, but she’d never miss a chance to put the fear of God in Elias Bouchard.”</p>
  <p> </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Jon snorts, though the idea isn’t half-bad. “That’s unnecessary.” He settles back against Martin, reveling in the quiet peace of the evening. It’s the first time he’s relaxed all week. Perhaps he won’t go into work on Saturday, maybe he’ll just lie here forever. He pretends not to hear Martin whisper <em>‘Do it!’ </em>and closes his eyes as Gerry pulls out his phone and begins to text. </p>
  <p> </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>It’s nice, being at home. He should do this more often.</p>
  <p> </p>
</div>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>God, love me some Jon/Gerry/Martin. We need more of this in the world. Might have some more one-shots for this universe planned in the future, never say never! Hope you liked.</p><p>Let me know your thoughts in the comments! Always love to see them. You can reach me @voiceless-terror on tumblr for asks/prompts/general yelling. Thanks for reading!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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